


Soon We'll Be Found

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1976715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troye and Connor have sort of been together for a while now. <br/>Sort of, because Connor is in denial about everything and Troye is starting to feel a bit used.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here's a thing I did. I didn't think I would ever write anything, but then there was Tronnor.

Troye barely heard the quiet knock on his hotel door while he brushed his teeth. He padded out of the bathroom in his fluffy white robe and peeked through the eyehole, though he already knew who it was.

Connor looked impatient, glancing down the hallway in both directions. He was probably worried about being caught. He was always worried about that.

“Hey,” Troye said around his toothbrush as he opened the door and returned to the sink to spit. Connor followed him wordlessly and wrapped his arms around Troye's waist from behind, pulling him close. Troye watched in the mirror when Connor kissed his neck.

A hand pressed against Troye's chest, sliding under his robe, and he leaned back against Connor, closing his eyes as Connor's other hand untied the belt of his robe. Connor never started slow.

Troye let the robe slide off his shoulders and fall on the floor while he turned his head so he could kiss Connor. Connor groaned against his mouth, hips pressing Troye against the edge of the sink, making him shiver at the touch of cold porcelain on his bare hipbones.

When he heard Connor's zipper, he realized he didn't really want Connor to fuck him over the sink where he would have to look at himself in the mirror the whole time, so he turned and threw his arms around Connor's neck, kissing him again before he led him toward the bed.

He could feel Connor's eyes on his body while he dug through his bag for condoms, eliciting the familiar blend of excitement and self-consciousness that so often characterized his nights with Connor. He cared too much about Connor's opinion and was too uncertain about Connor's feelings to really let go and enjoy himself fully, but sometimes he managed anyway.

Connor reached out and grabbed him by the waist as soon as he was close enough, like he couldn't wait a moment longer, which turned Troye on more than he would have expected from such a small thing. _This is real, this is happening_ , he thought. Not matter how many times it happened, that thought felt like a revelation.

It wasn't long before he was writhing underneath Connor, his legs over Connor's shoulders, fingernails digging into Connor's back. Troye's breathing seemed so loud. He wondered if Connor noticed how loud his breathing was. He wondered if Connor was paying attention to the sounds he made, if Connor would remember them later. Troye had never been with someone he really liked before Connor. Part of him was afraid he would never feel entirely at ease around him.

After a while, Connor picked up the pace, indicating that he was getting close. Troye was getting there too, openly watching Connor's face because Connor was busy staring down at where their bodies met, tightening his grip on Troye to keep him still.

They both finished within a few seconds of each other, then Connor collapsed onto Troye and buried his face in Troye's neck. Troye linked his hands behind Connor's back, holding him there a while because he liked being pressed under his weight, as close to him as possible.

All too soon, Connor pulled out and rolled off to lie next to Troye, tugging the condom off and flinging it in the direction of the trash can in the process. Troye grimaced at the sensation of lube dripping out of him, but was feeling too lazy to go clean up.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked after a few seconds of stillness.

“Yeah. Why?” Troye said.

“I don't know,” Connor said. They both fell silent for a few more minutes. Connor absently traced his fingers along Troye's spine. “What time does your flight leave tomorrow?”

“Like two o'clock,” Troye replied.

“I can take you to the airport if you want,” Connor said.

“You sure? You don't have to.”

“Yeah. I want to say goodbye.”

“Okay.” Troye's eyes were drifting shut.

“I'll miss you,” Connor said. Troye opened his eyes and looked at him.

“You will?”

“Yeah, of course,” Connor said, acting surprised by Troye's reaction, as if he said things like that all the time.

As if he hadn't gone completely silent the other day when Troye told him he loved him. Troye had tried to play it off casually at the time, anything to wipe the horrified look off Connor's face, but he cried about it as soon as Connor left, feeling so stupid and embarrassed and sorry for himself. It was the first time Troye had ever put himself out there and taken a risk. It might be the last.

“Huh. Well, we can always Skype,” Troye said.

“I wonder how long until I get to touch you again,” Connor said wistfully, squeezing Troye's ass for emphasis.

“You could always visit me in Australia,” Troye pointed out hopefully.

“No, people would suspect something was going on,” Connor said. Troye held back from saying _good_ , just like he always did when Connor voiced his concerns about being discovered.

“Well, I don't know then,” he said, failing to keep the hurt entirely out of his voice.

“I'm sorry, okay?” Connor said.

“Whatever,” Troye said, turning over so his back was to Connor.

“Troye, this is our last night together for who knows how long. Do you really want to spend it having this same argument again?”

“No,” Troye said reluctantly. He allowed Connor to pull him back against his chest and slowly relaxed into the embrace, wondering when Connor was going to come out, if ever. How could he still not be sure? They'd been doing this _thing_ , whatever it was, for ages. If he really liked Troye, he would know it by now, wouldn't he?

Connor started shifting around behind him and pressing his hips against Troye's ass, which meant it was probably getting to be time for round two already. They had so few nights together that they rarely wasted much time sleeping. Troye would sleep on the plane tomorrow.

Connor touched Troye's cheek and gently turned his head to kiss him, and Troye could swear he felt the kiss through his entire body, and he knew they had something together that wasn't ordinary, and if Connor felt even half of what Troye did, he wouldn't keep Troye in limbo much longer.

All Troye could do was wait and see.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to have more chapters now.

Troye only got a few hours of sleep before the sunlight streaming through his hotel window woke him up. It was hard for him to sleep late when he knew he had to fly home later, even after a long night.

Connor was still sound asleep next to him, his arm wrapped around Troye's waist and his knee pressed slightly between Troye's thighs.

Troye felt sticky, but he desperately didn't want to move. They had never gone at it as long as they had the night before, and Troye wouldn't be complaining about it any time soon, but now he was as sore as if he'd been working out.

Or so he assumed, never having actually worked out before. His skin was sticking to Connor's from their dried sweat and it was so gross, but he didn't even mind.

He turned and scooted a little closer to Connor so that their chests were touching and tucked his face against Connor's neck. Connor stirred and his arm tightened around Troye, but he didn't wake up.

After a few minutes, Troye mustered the energy to lift his head and look at the clock on the nightstand. He groaned at the time and extricated himself carefully from Connor's embrace. He needed to hurry up and shower.

The shower mechanism in this hotel was so hard to figure out that Troye still hadn't mastered it since he'd been there, and doubted he ever would, considering this was his last chance.

He ended up settling for his water being too hot rather than bone-chillingly cold, unable to find a happy medium, and started washing his hair while his skin turned pink.

He had to close his eyes when he got shampoo foam in them, so he only became aware of Connor's arrival when he heard the shower curtain shift and felt a cool draft of air against his back.

“Ow, why is the water so hot?” Connor exclaimed as he stepped in. He reached past Troye and effortlessly adjusted the dial to the perfect temperature. Troye almost felt annoyed that the shower favored Connor, but he couldn't blame it for responding to his touch.

“I like it that way,” Troye lied to cover up his ineptitude.

“Okay, sorry,” Connor said, reaching to turn it up again.

“No, it's okay. This is fine too, I guess,” Troye said, grabbing Connor's wrist to prevent him from taking away this lovely and elusive temperature.

Connor shrugged and started messing with Troye's hair instead, styling it into a little shampoo fauxhawk.

“I'm so done with you,” Troye said, grinning, when he realized what Connor was doing.

“Really? I'm not done with you yet,” Connor said, his voice suddenly deeper, and pressed him gently against the cold tile wall and kissed him.

Troye clung to Connor's shoulders because he didn't trust himself not to slip and fall and get seriously injured and ruin the moment, but the moment didn't last very long anyway because Connor pulled back and laughed.

“Okay, you need to rinse that out of your hair or I can't take you seriously.”

“Nope, you did it and now you have to live with it,” Troye said playfully, but after a few seconds of looking at him appraisingly, Connor just spun him around under the spray of the shower and washed it out himself while Troye shrieked and pretended to struggle.

When the ensuing tickle fight was finished, Troye was breathless from laughter and Connor had a firm grip on both his wrists, pinning them over his head.

A beat passed as they just looked at each other and Troye bit his lower lip expectantly.

The smile slowly faded from Connor's face. He appeared to grow pensive, then he leaned in hesitantly and kissed Troye's neck, then his cheek, and then he let Troye's arms down and left the shower.

Troye was at a loss. He was cold, too, because he had bumped the shower dial at some point.

He turned it off entirely and toweled himself dry, wondering what he'd done wrong now. Connor sometimes had mood swings, but that was a little odd.

Connor had closed the bathroom door when he left, so Troye wasn't sure if he was still in his room or not. He threw his towel on the floor and glanced at himself in the mirror. Then he heard Connor say something out in the room and almost opened the door before he realized Connor was talking to someone else on the phone.

He leaned against the bathroom door to eavesdrop, but only caught snippets of the conversation.

“Oh, I went to the gym this morning...no, I haven't seen him yet, but I'm driving him to the airport soon...”

Troye backed away from the door and looked around the bathroom to make sure he didn't forget to pack anything, then stared at himself in the mirror, which he'd been doing more and more of late.

He hated hearing Connor lying about them. He did it so often, even when it wasn't remotely necessary. He could at least just say they were hanging out; their friends wouldn't automatically jump to the conclusion that they were fucking.

Lately it seemed like Connor didn't even want anyone to know they were friends, much less anything else.

If Troye had his way, he would tell absolutely everyone about him and Connor.

He'd never had a real boyfriend before -and still didn't, he supposed- but he was ridiculously proud that Connor even wanted him at all. And usually Troye was pretty confident about his looks. He had no problem taking his shirt off for the Internet. People commented and tweeted him on a daily basis about how cute he was.

But sometimes, like now, he stood in front of the mirror and thought maybe he understood why Connor might not be as proud to be with him as he was to be with Connor.

He stared at the planes of his face and body and thought they were all wrong, that he looked weird and scrawny and angular, and a cold weight settled in his stomach because he didn't know what to do about it.

He desperately wanted to keep Connor's interest, but he still marveled at the idea that Connor would want to sleep with him in the first place.

There was a knock on the door and Troye backed away from the mirror, not wanting Connor to catch him staring at himself. It was embarrassing to be so vain and yet so insecure.

“Hey, are you about ready? We have to leave soon so you'll have time to get through security,” Connor said.

“Yeah, just a minute,” Troye said, and got started on his hair so he would have an explanation for what he was still doing in the bathroom.

Connor opened the door. He was dressed now and Troye felt acutely aware that he was still not.

“I packed your suitcase for you,” Connor said, subtly looking him up and down.

“Oh, thanks,” Troye said, then decided to give up on his hair and wear a beanie. He was going to be on a plane all day anyway.

“And I brought you some clothes,” Connor said, placing an outfit for Troye on the side table next to the sink.

“Thank you for that also,” Troye said, now slightly bemused because Connor was being awkward. He looked nervous, actually.

“And I think I love you,” Connor said. It took a moment for that to register in Troye's mind, then he froze, staring at Connor. He probably looked calm from the outside, but his insides were chaos, scrambling to make sense of that phrase. I think I love you. I _think_. I _love_ you.

“Oh,” he said.

“I just- I'm sorry, I don't know, I feel bad-”

“It's fine,” Troye said, cutting him off because he was afraid of what else Connor might say, what other qualifications he might heap onto the phrase.

“I just don't know if I can give you what you need.”

“You can,” Troye assured him sharply, starting to panic, wondering where this was going. Connor took a deep breath and let it out.

“Maybe,” he said, and left the bathroom again. Troye stared after him. He'd been so afraid he was about to be dumped just then. And now he had less of an idea where they stood than ever.

He left the door open while he got dressed in case Connor had more to say, but he didn't. Connor was sitting on the bed when Troye came out, and he still looked worried.

Troye sat next to him and rested his head on his shoulder. Connor rubbed his back briefly, reassuringly.

“Ready to go?” Connor asked.

Troye nodded, and they headed out to catch the flight that would take Troye as far from where he wanted to be as possible.


End file.
